Work in Progress

Posted on Mon Jan 29th, 2024 @ 1:03pm by Lieutenant Commander Oscar McDonald MD

593 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Lacertae Mortis
Location: Sickbay

With a spoonful of frustration, a dash of annoyance and just a hint of exasperation, Doctor Oscar McDonald paused for just a moment to ponder why he didn’t give more serious consideration to retirement. After all, during some of his darkest days, hadn’t he spent endless hours mapping out how to see out his days in a beautifully isolated lakeside cabin with days full of fresh air, fishing and the finest whisky known to man?

And, since he first joined Starfleet, had he not more than dedicated his life to the uniform and his profession. Often to the detriment of all else. He had four failed marriages (and countless more engagements) to prove it.

But no.

Instead here he stood in the middle of a room which was, allegedly, his office. The large space, however, had been stripped bare to be fully upgraded with the latest technology Starfleet had available. As if he needed all these bells and whistles. He didn’t even have a desk for heaven’s sake!

And no sign of the Captain. Indeed, he had barely heard from her since she convinced him to set aside those retirement plans to come aboard as CMO. She wanted his vast experience as a doctor and surgeon, which was entirely understandable. And of course he had just set aside everything to try and - what? Ease his guilt over one of many failed marriages? Perhaps.

The rest of sickbay was in better shape, with upgraded biobeds installed and a new laboratory. What it lacked, he already knew, was supplies. Although he had been assured all would be rectified before the ship launched. He took that promise with a pinch of salt.

Well, nothing to do but shower, eat and then get stuck in helping to fix all of this mess…

Making mental notes of his priorities he set off to his quarters, familiar enough with the ship design to find his new home from home easily. Inside he found the same generic design employed throughout most of this class, and much more room than he needed. Although that wall would be perfect for his journals…

His train of thought ended as he saw a box on the table, gift wrap with a bow. Curious he set aside his bags and opened it with meticulous care, revealing another box within. “How unnecessary,” he sighed, opening out this box to reveal another. And then another. He arched an eyebrow, wondering if eventually he would just find a tiny box large enough to hold next to nothing.

Four boxes in he found the actual gift, reluctantly letting out a small laugh as he lifted out a small silver trash can. Lifting the lid on it, a familiar green muppet popped out, so that the upper body was visible - especially the unhappy expression. Stuck to the inside of the lid he noticed a handwritten note: In case you forgot to pack a mirror…

He rolled his eyes but nevertheless carefully set the gift down beside the workstation, the first personal touch to grace his quarters. “A new one for the collection,” he observed, shaking his head.

Reminding himself he was Chief Medical Officer to a rather chaotic medical bay, he nodded to himself and gathered his belongings to shower and change into a fresh uniform. Not only did he need to sort out the equipment and supplies, but he had a whole new staff to meet.

He had been promised the best, but had Morelli delivered?

Time would tell.

 

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